Be Still
Behind the towering hill,
I know a man who has a strong will.
Forgotten, he thought of himself
Forges the happiness in his shelf.
He wrote about the mountains.
He delivered his speech with sense;
But crumpled the paper after
And rolled like an infant with tear.
Unwittingly, in the midst of the sea
His captain is sailing fast with glee,
Thinking her stare would bring him peace
And love once crashed by disgrace.
So be still my friend and look at the sun
As it replaces the moon at dawn.
Be not like the man I told
Who has erased his writing in sword.
For silence may seem so deafening
As the dusk echoes your slumber within.
However this is only an illusion
For a heart who hopes with vision.
Come, continue writing her tale
May it be in the garden or still in your cell.
Believe that there is a miracle somewhere
And there is something to see out there.
(A reply to the persona of The Moon and the Prisoner)